


Catapult

by inkedlove



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Bromance, Canon Compliant, Case Fic, Episode 1x08 spoilers (kind of), Flour Warehouse, Friendship, Gen, Jack is a clutz, Mac and Jack's friendship is so pure, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 23:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14903918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkedlove/pseuds/inkedlove
Summary: In which Mac and Jack are stuck in a flour warehouse under fire from a terrorist cell.





	Catapult

**Author's Note:**

> So.... I've recently gotten into Macgyver and I decided to try my hand at writing a pretty general, fun, and comedic (ish) fic, to see if I could figure out how I'm going to write the characters for potential future fics.... That's about it, I guess. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> -K

 

 

Mac flinched as a bullet hit a wooden crate above his right shoulder, just a touch too close for comfort. To his left, Jack was periodically reaching up and letting off a few shots while Mac furiously looked around for something - _anything_ \- to help.

“Ya know, Mac, I admire that gigantic brain of yours, but I’d be much happier right now if you’d get on with this big idea you’ve got brewing. I'd rather not have this multi-million dollar prototype destroyed on our watch.” Jack reached up again to shoot.  
“Give me a break, Jack; you’re the one who got us into this mess,” Mac argued in response.  
“That’s never stopped you saving our asses before!”

Mac looked around the warehouse, brain working a mile a minute. As it turns out, storage warehouses are usually pretty good places to find the odds and ends needed to created timely distractions. Flour storage warehouses, however… that’s another story. There was hardly anything around, save for a few wooden crates, large hessian bags of flour, a bucket...

Honestly, if it weren't for Jack's clumsiness, they wouldn't even be here. Mac was never one to dwell on the past (his father aside), though, so he figured the least he could do was save their asses for the sake of the good ol' US of A and the entire Western World.

"Mac," Jack's voice had a worried tone to it. "Time is a factor, here."  
"I got it, Jack. I need you to have two bullets left. You'll know when. Just need your shoelaces and your belt."  
"Use your own, goddamn it," Jack cursed, but he was unfastening his belt as he spoke.  
"I am, Jack."

Shoelaces and belts in a pile, Mac began to break apart one of the large wooden crates that lay everywhere around them, using his pocketknife as a lever. He began constructing a square shape, using repurposed screws from the original crate to join the corners and then to attach a makeshift stand to the structure.

The next step was to knock over a shelving unit just like the one behind which they were hiding. It crashed to the ground with an almighty _bang_. Mac needed a strong arm for his device and the metal supports of the shelving would do just the trick.

Mac bound two of the metal stakes together with his and Jack's belts before attaching the new arm to the main structure.

The next thing Mac needed was the bucket he'd spotted earlier. In order to reach it, he had to leave their cover. He lunged out for it, ducking a bullet in the process.

Safe back behind the shelving, Mac used his knife to cut the top off the bucket and then two rough holes in the base of the bucket. He threaded the shoelaces through the holes and fastened the bucket to what was finally beginning to look like it was usable.

"Holy shit, homie!" Jack was shouting. "He's making a medieval freaking catapult!"

Grinning, Mac grabbed the inconspicuous black bag from between them and took out the small yet dangerous piece of technology.  
"Oh, man, _please_ don't tell me you're planning to activate this hand-launched directional missile on our friend over here. He's only got a machine gun. That would horribly unfair, even if he is a member of a terrorist cell."  
"No, Jack." Mac placed the missile into Jack's lap and kept the bag. Using his knife, he tore the bag up into two-inch-wide strips. "The catapult requires an elasticised component in order to function. The vinyl of this bag is elastic enough for the job."

After tying the strips of vinyl together and attaching the length to the catapult, it was ready for operation. Mac heaved one of the many bags of flour into the cut-off bucket.

"On the count of three, Jack." Mac pulled back the bucket-end of the catapult. _"One, two, three!"_   The bag of flour was airborne. Jack waited until the projectile reached the top of its arc before firing.

In an instant, the room was clouded over with flour, and their enemies were yelling in surprise and confusion in between coughs. Both Mac and Jack pulled their shirts up over their mouths and noses.

"Go, go, go!" Mac was shouting, and they were hightailing it out of the warehouse.

Before too long, they reached a truck that looked speedy enough. Jack smashed the driver's side window in and they were off again, back on schedule.

"Not to shit on your plan - which was brilliant, by the way - but why did I need two bullets? Do you not trust my aim?" Jack sent Mac an offended look.  
"Yeah, about that. Sorry. We had the cover, so I figured to make the best of it in case you missed. Better safe than sorry?"  
Jack punched him in the arm good-naturedly and pressed down on the accelerator, headed to exfil.

~

Back at Mac and Bozer's place, Jack told an incredibly animated and exaggerated version of the story.  
"So let me get this straight," Bozer interrupted. "You made a _flour bomb_ as a distraction." Both Riley and Bozer had been otherwise occupied during Mac and Jack's (not-so) stealthy theft of the hand-missile prototype.  
"I mean, well, yeah. There's a saddening lack of supplies in a flour warehouse, so I had to make do."

Mac loved his job, that was one thing he never questioned. Getting to work with the people he loved never got old. In some ways, it made their friendships stronger. No group of friends took the phrase, 'trust them with your life' any more literally. Being out in the field was something Mac almost always enjoyed, as had been the case for his whole working life. That being said, Mac's favourite part of working with his friends - especially now that Bozer was working for the Phoenix, too - was the casual debriefs around the firepit.

Beers, laughter, usually some good food cooking, all by the homely feeling of the fire - it was ideal. The whole process made recovering from near-death experiences tremendously easy.

"How do you even end up in a flour factory? I didn't even know that was, like, a thing." Riley was laughing as she spoke.  
"Flour warehouse, Riles. Storage, not production. And, to be clear, it was Jack's fault."  
"Okay, hold up, man," Jack responded to Mac's attack. "We had to duck in there because a van full of terrorists drove past. It was the closest building."  
"Ah, but Jack, why was it that the terrorists had any idea of our location?" Mac pried gleefully. Jack rolled his eyes, making a big show of it. Bozer urged him on.  
"It is possible that your usually agile and careful friend, Jack Dalton, knocked a dodgy-looking lamp off a table as we were evacuating the building."

The group laughed.

Yet another successful mission.


End file.
